This post was started and mostly written on 9 Dec 05. It could probably stand updating with some more recent links but I’ll let it stand for now.
I have finally started reading the following book as I won’t be able to renew it much longer:
John M. Budd, Knowledge and knowing in library and information science: a philosophical framework. Lanham, MD: Scarecrow, 2001.
I
read the intro and the beginning of the 1st chapter and decided I
needed to buy it if affordable. Amazon has it for $35.42 brand-new, but
the cheapest copy on abebooks.com is $24 and it’s at my Mimesis group member’s book store, Babbitt’s Books in Normal, IL. So, of course, I did the right thing and ordered it from Brian. Now I’ll be able to converse with the author as I’ll be able to write/mark in it as I see fit, or annotate it if you prefer a technical term.
I am really looking forward to experiencing this book. I think Budd is going lots of places I approve of in his analysis. While I may not, and will not I am sure, agree in every detail I think we’ll be close enough to call it a kinship. The real fun will have to wait until I have my own copy. But for now, I’ll pass on what will be my opening 2nd entry into the Library 2.0 discussion, to use a word loosely, albeit hopefully.
The thinking that guides work in every profession and discipline, including library and information science (LIS), has a heritage, a genealogy. There may be aspects of the heritage of thought that some fields share; there may be some unique elements in each. The thought on which today’s action is based, or of which it is a product, is a long line of conjectures, suggestions, evidence, refutation, and revision. Much of that heritage is hidden to those who practice in these fields, unless they purposely inquire into the past. It may be argued that practice proceeds and progresses just fine in ignorance of the heritage. I’d suggest that such a view mistakenly interprets continued action as progress. Genuine progress—which I’ll define here as the development and offering of effective service to communities, fruitful enquiry into enduring questions that helps us understand the complexity of our world, and making decisions that are really informed (in the sense that fully allows for the most useful internal workings and external effect)—only occurs when there has been deep critical investigation into the workings of our field. Critical investigation, of necessity, relies on knowing where we came from and how we got here, as well as where we’re going (Budd 1-2).
My acknowledgment of the productive tension that has both led us to this place and time and provided us with a path to the future owes a great deal to Stephen Jay Gould’s observation that the study of thought necessarily embodies all thought; we do ourselves a disservice when we create disciplinary barriers that can become increasingly difficult to cross. He says we have made serious mistakes that result in a distrust of difference:
The first bad habit—setting up dichotomies—may be deeply inbred into the mechanisms of cerebral divisions—good vs. evil, male vs. female, or culture vs. nature—and then, in a further unfortunate reflex, to rank or judge these alternatives. The second bad habit, making martial metaphors, represents an all-too-human potential for belligerence—a potential unfortunately realized in most cultural contexts. When we put these two themes together, we fall into simplistic readings of history as a set of battles between Light and Darkness. (Gould, 1998, 86) (Budd, 12).
Gould really nails the issue here. Humans don’t just put things in boxes (categorize), we seem to prefer only 2 boxes for each dimension. But there is almost always more than 2 categories, and there are very, very few real dichotomies. The list of martial metaphors, especially when it comes to metaphors of communication, is incredibly long [See Lakoff and Johnson, Metaphors We Live By].
Budd is entirely correct in his comments here. He is not just saying you need to know your history and how we got "here" but that you need to know it so that you can examine what it is you do and why you do it so that you can then make real progress. It is a statement of some of the background that a profession/discipline needs to lead an examined life.
One of the better voices that I’ve seen so far in this discussion, in that he’s trying to make it a discussion, has been Michael Casey’s at LibraryCrunch. While I do not necessarily agree with everything he says, he is trying to make this a discussion and to help us understand and remember that we are all starting from different points.
But I do have a comment to a statement by Michael at his post, "Whatever tools take us there are the ones we will use." It is a well-balanced post that attempts to get people to reduce the focus on technology and reminds us that libraries may have different missions while we attempt to reach the goal of Library 2.0 as he defines it: "Crafting better and better services, giving customers more and more control over library offerings, and reaching a greater and greater proportion of the population…."
He talks about how the goal will be reached via high tech tools where appropriate and by other tools also. I could not agree more. He ends with this:
Whatever tools take us there are the ones we will use. Many of those tools will come from the world of Web 2.0, and many of the tools we use will have nothing to do with technology, but will instead be ways of thinking and philosophical approaches to librarianship.
This is my only gripe—ways of thinking and, in fact, philosophical approaches are technologies. While they may not be high tech, or even the common conception of ‘technology’ there is no doubt that they are most certainly technologies. A little work in the history, philosophy, and sociology of technology should easily convince one of this. But just as most scientists get no explicit philosophy of science, most technophiles (and this is not directed at Michael Casey!) do not study technology. This is another reason there is such discord between many of the ‘camps,’ to use a martial metaphor. We do not agree on the use of our terms. And until we do so there can be very little fruitful discussion.
Another post by Michael is "A Dialogue on L2: The services change, the mission does not." This is another good post and attempt at starting the conversation, and it ties in beautifully with the Budd book. Michael writes:
One thing you mention that goes through my mind a lot is, "what is a library?" I’m not sure we know anymore, and I fear one of the things we’re going to see is increasingly diverse interpretations of what a library really is. There is no way to begin including some of the things that have been discussed as being L2 without thinking that libraries may soon begin deviating from each other’s understanding of library.
Based on my limited historical understanding, that is the question. And it can not be answered until we do much of the work that Budd talks about in the first excerpted paragraph above. Go read this post by Michael though, and be sure to read the comments. I particularly enjoyed the one by T. Scott. He says, "But I’m concentrating on developing better librarians — if we do that,
better libraries will happen naturally. If our gaze is focused on the
library, I think we’re turned in the wrong direction." Yes! Libraries, as I’ve said many places and will continue to do so, do nothing. People, in this case librarians and other library staff, do the doing. It is simply a category mistake to apply agency to an institution. I know it is how we talk. It is also how much of the evil is done in the world.
One more comment though on Michael’s post. You can’t say the mission doesn’t change until you’ve done the above work. Maybe it is the mission, or part of it, that needs to change, not just services. And if the services change in a service-oriented profession, has not the mission changed, at least on some level? And in the first post I mentioned by Michael, he claims that "every library has a slightly different mission" and then he tells us the mission doesn’t change. Huh?
Now these are all minor criticisms in my mind, and I sincerely applaud Michael Casey for attempting to further the discussion of where we are, where we might need to be, and the various ways to get there.
I followed T. Scott’s comment to his blog and found this post, "Librarian 5.0," which starts out:
I’d like to see just a little more imagination and a bit more historical perspective on the part of the Library 2.0 enthusiasts. Certainly, making good use of the latest tools & gadgets & gizmos to do a better job of reaching out to our communities and providing better services is something we should all be doing — but this isn’t really anything new.
Check out the whole thing and the comments. Excellent stuff.
Meredith at Information Wants To Be Free wants "A clear vision for the future of your library."
Maybe it would make sense to ask the miracle question in our libraries.
If a miracle occured one night and all of the problems with your
library were gone (or we miraculously reached library 2.0 overnight),
how would you know that a miracle had occurred? What would be
different? What would the library be like? Once you have that vision
for what your library/Library 2.0 should look like, what specific steps
do you and your colleagues need to take to get there (how do you get to
1.3, 1.6, etc.)? Once you have your answer to those questions, you
should have a clear roadmap for reaching your goal. And it’s a roadmap
written specifically for your library.
Meredith has some very good points in this post. She also has some in a much newer post, "Label 2.0."
I do take (small) issue with some of her comments in both posts, which I hope to address soon. I know she doesn’t intend them the way they sound to me, but nonetheless some of her comments sound exclusionary, and that doesn’t sound like the Meredith I’ve come to know.
Link to "My 1st L2 comments" posted on 4 Jan 06.
Gould, Stephen Jay. 1998. In Gratuitous Battle. Civilization (October/November): 86-88.